


So What If I'm Na-Na-Na Not Okay?

by littlewagers



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Sex, Beards (Relationships), Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield Have a Good Relationship, Billy Hargrove Is Bad at Feelings, Billy Hargrove Lives, Billy Hargrove Needs a Hug, Billy Hargrove Tries to Be a Better Person, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bottom Steve Harrington, Boys In Love, Brotherly Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson, Crying, Dom/sub Undertones, Eleven | Jane Hopper Goes By Jane Hopper, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Video (Stranger Things), Gay Billy Hargrove, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, Good Friend Robin Buckley, Harringrove, Hawkins (Stranger Things), Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Torture, Lesbian Robin Buckley, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Minor Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler, Minor Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper, Minor Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Dustin Henderson, One-Sided Will Byers/Mike Wheeler, Palace Arcade (Stranger Things), Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Pining, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Friendship, Slow Burn, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson Friendship, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Steve Harrington Is a Mess, Swearing, Top Billy Hargrove, Wingman Robin Buckley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:07:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25008178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlewagers/pseuds/littlewagers
Summary: Life is good. Better. Fine. Steve is living with Robin, and she's going to leave for college in a year, but it's okay. He'll have the kids. And then he'll have...what will he have?He'll have Billy. He'll have California. And he'll still have Robin. He always will.Billy becomes Max's legal guardian and redeems himself. Steve finds that very attractive.In an alternate universe where the fantastical elements of the Upside-Down never happened and it was just a mind control study that ruthlessly kidnapped and experimented on people.Based on "I'm Not Okay" by Weathers.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley/Heather Holloway, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington & The Party
Comments: 14
Kudos: 115





	1. Too Many Issues

**Author's Note:**

> Based on I'm Not Okay by Weathers.

“You’re gonna need a minivan if you keep adopting kids at this rate,” Robin teased, and Steve flipped her off while opening the door for her.  
“Just thank me for the ride like a normal person,” Steve grouched as he slid into the driver’s seat.  
“Thank you for the ride, Steve,” Robin chorused at the same time as Dustin, Lucas, Will, and Mike.  
Since the kids had gotten into high school and Steve, Billy, and Jonathan had aged out, bikes had been deemed unsafe (for everyone but Erica) and carpools had been arranged. Steve brought the boys and Robin before heading to work. Max was riding with Heather in Billy’s car as always, and Jane got dropped off in the police cruiser. Jonathan always brought Nancy, and the kids had collectively decided to give them those morning drives alone.  
“Tunes?” He asked as he started the car, and Dustin perked up. It was a Tuesday--his day to choose. Max got Monday, Will got Wednesday, Mike got Thursday, and Robin got Friday. He got the weekends, because it was his car, damn it!   
“Meat Is Murder!” Dustin said excitedly, and Lucas, Robin, and Mike all groaned. Dustin had been having a The Smiths phase recently, and Steve sighed before popping in the cassette. The song the tape was on, Nowhere Fast, filled the car, and they headed off towards the school.

When they pulled in, Robin had to scramble to get out of the car before she got decked by a flailing limb from one of the four uncoordinated boys in the backseat. Steve got to wait a little longer; Will and Dustin sat on his side, and they either liked him more or moved gentler.  
“Have a good day, kids!” Steve called as the boys ran towards the school where Jane was waiting and chatting with Will’s girlfriend Emily Keese. Steve had offered to drive her too, but her dad was the gym teacher, so she already had a ride.  
“See you later,” Robin said, coming around to Steve’s side of the car after grabbing her things and pushing the seat back into place.  
“I’m picking you up at lunch,” Steve said, more to reassure himself than remind her. He hugged her tightly, pulling the strap of her backpack over her shoulder almost instinctively before it could fall. Her clarinet jabbed him in the ribs, but he kissed the top of her head anyway.  
“Love you,” she called over her shoulder.  
“Love you too,” he replied.  
A trumpet player named Tommy N. who was walking into the band room at the same time as Robin whistled at her and she rolled her eyes as they went inside.  
Steve sighed. They’d decided to pretend to date to keep Robin safe a few months ago when Dustin had joked, “Why aren’t you dating? Are you queers or something?”  
Steve had frozen, but Robin had quickly replied, “We are dating. Steve just didn’t want to tell you because he thought he’d lose cool points.”  
“Shut up,” Steve had snapped, then realized what she’d said, and nodded, throwing his arm around her shoulders. “We’re together,” he affirmed. “A few weeks now.”  
“Finally,” Dustin said, rolling his eyes and heading back to the Wheeler’s basement with snacks.  
As Steve was about to get to work, a familiar car pulled up a few spaces down from him. It was Billy Hargrove’s Camaro, and Steve watched as he, Max, and Heather climbed out. Max hopped on her skateboard, hurrying over to where the rest of the kids were waiting by the entrance to the school.  
When they were all safely inside, Steve turned back to her brother. Heather was perched on the hood of the Camaro with Billy between her legs as they kissed. Since the car accident on the Fourth of July, the two of them, who’d been casually dating for a few weeks before, became inseparable. They’d moved into a small one-bedroom apartment together and become Max’s official legal guardians once the Hargrove’s home lives were revealed.  
Steve guessed they were friends. Once he got out of the wheelchair after the accident, Billy had stopped getting in fights, quit drinking and smoking, gotten a job at the mechanic’s, and started therapy, which had totally turned him around. He was still bold and charismatic, but less defensive, more optimistic. He still missed surfing.  
Max had changed as well; she’d softened a little, allowed herself to feel and be vulnerable, her friendship with Jane helping both girls equally. They were both seeing therapists now, and the improvement was slow but obvious.   
Lucas, still pragmatic but beginning to loosen up a little, had only fallen more in love with Max, which Steve would’ve been worried about for Dustin’s sake, but he’d met a girl at some camp over the summer and they were still going strong even now, in October.  
Dustin was hyper and excitable as always, happy with his relationship and his friends and his new cat, Scrabble. He was in the marching band, of course, and was elected treasurer of the AV Club, which was an honor for a freshman. Will, Mike, Lucas, and even Max and Jane had all joined as well.  
Jane, for her part, was happily sharing a room with Will now that Hopper and Mrs. Byers were getting married. Jonathan had offered to give up his room, but both kids swore they preferred it this way. They’d told the rest of them later that it was easier to sleep when someone was in the room; they were scared of being alone. After that, they never were again.  
Mike made sure of it. He loved Jane so much, and Will was his best and oldest friend. They went almost everywhere together--they’d even had their school schedules rearranged so they were in all the same classes.  
Steve thought Will would’ve felt like a third wheel, especially since he had such an obvious crush on Mike, but since he’d started dating Emily at the beginning of the year he’d really opened up, becoming more alive and less afraid. His drawings were already catching the art teacher’s attention, and he’d recently begun branching out into sculpture.  
Life was good.  
Better.  
Fine.

Steve pulled up back at the school for his lunch break, splitting Robin’s lunch (which she’d double-packed for this purpose exactly) before driving them both to Family Video. Robin had enough credits to take afternoons off and work, which was good--she needed to save up for college.  
Steve wasn’t looking forward to her leaving him, but she swore she’d come back every weekend--the schools she was interested in were close enough for that if she took the bus.  
At five, they went back to Robin’s, where her mother, Linda, served them dinner--a salad and potatoes--before going to her second job as a night nurse for a wealthy couple with newborn twins. After that, they were alone.  
Linda had been cautious (Steve would say ‘paranoid’) at first; she’d been a teen mother, and Robin’s dad hadn’t stuck around, but she’d let up after Robin had blurted out that she was a lesbian during a particularly heated “why-was-that-boy-sleeping-in-your-bed” fight. She’d accepted it, mostly relieved that Robin wouldn’t be getting pregnant anytime soon, and told Steve if he ever hurt her little girl she’d kill him.  
Steve had replied that he was sure she could, but said little girl would probably do it first.  
Since then, she’d basically adopted him. Of course, he was an adult, at least legally, so that wasn’t technically possible, but he slept beside Robin every night and had moved his stuff in when he found out his parents were finally getting a divorce, and Steve was thankful he was too old to be something else for them to fight over. Still, watching his mother run crying from the house had hurt in a way he hadn’t expected.  
That night, Steve had sobbed in Robin’s arms for hours before they both fell asleep on the couch. When Linda came home, Robin had explained that he needed a place to stay, and Steve had immediately been offered a permanent place in their home.  
He knew he’d move out once Robin went to college, but it was working well for now. Steve did chores while Robin did homework, and afterwards, they watched another movie from the “Required Viewing For Living In The Buckley Household” list taped to their bedroom door.  
Brushing their teeth beside each other in front of the sink, Steve thought about how lucky he was to have a friend like her. She wasn’t really his friend anymore, though; she was his sister. His crazy, annoying, loud, funny, wonderful, geeky, exasperating, awesome little sister.  
“Why are you staring at me?” Robin asked, snapping Steve out of his reverie.  
“No reason,” he muttered, putting his toothbrush away.  
“Dingus,” she muttered, kissing his cheek. “C’mon.” They crawled into bed together, backs touching, and turned off the light. Steve faced the window, Robin faced the door, and they talked until they fell asleep.  
“You sad Tammy Thompson went to college?” Steve asked once they were situated.  
Robin huffed and kicked his leg. “Shut up, dingus!” She laughed. “I haven’t had a crush on her in months.”  
“Anyone else caught your eye, then?” Steve asked. Robin’s silence was telling. “Oh my god!” Steve exclaimed, wriggling against her back. “You have a crush!”  
“Stop,” Robin groaned.  
“Tell me all about her,” Steve teased. “Is she older? Younger? Tall? Short? Do I know her?”  
“You know her,” Robin answered.  
“If you say Carol--” Steve began.  
“No!” Robin interrupted. “Definitely not. God, Steve, I have taste. Besides,” she added, “it doesn’t matter who it is, anyway. She has a boyfriend.”  
That’s debatable, Steve thought, but before he could vocalize it, he had a realization. “It’s not Nancy, is it?”  
“No, Steve, I’m not in love with your ex-girlfriend,” Robin sighed. “Dingus,” she added lovingly.  
“Who is it?” Steve whined. He began poking Robin, chanting, “Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!”  
“It’s Heather!” Robin snapped. “I like Heather Holloway, alright?”  
“Billy’s girlfriend?” Steve asked. “The lifeguard-cheerleader-babysitter chick? The one he was in the accident with?”  
“That’s the one,” Robin replied. “Now go to sleep.”  
“Since when?” Steve pressed, ignoring her order. “I mean, she’s kind of a prep. What changed your mind about 'girls like that'?"  
“It was when we went to the pool with the kids on Labor Day for the closing weekend,” Robin told him. “She was there in her red swimsuit, and she was being kind of bitchy to everyone but Billy and her friends, but then this little girl came up to her and wanted help with her goggles, and Heather sorted it out for her and said she was free if she ever needed a babysitter, and then she smiled, and I just kind of melted.”  
“Damn,” Steve muttered. “Where was I during this?”  
“Staring at Hargrove in a very unsubtle manner, imagining him blowing you instead of his whistle,” Robin shot back smugly.  
Steve blushed and elbowed her. “Please stop bringing that up.” His ‘thing,’ as they called it, had been Robin’s go-to defense against Steve’s teasing since he confessed in late July.  
Billy had come into the video store, whistle around his neck, wearing basketball shorts and sneakers and nothing else. It was the “nothing else” that made Steve flush and stammer through the transaction as Billy smoothly rented a video from the adult backroom. He left with a, “See you later, pretty boy,” over his shoulder, and Robin had burst out laughing as soon as the door shut.  
“You like Hargrove!” She’d cackled. Steve had shushed her, but there was no one else in the store. “What the hell, Steve?”  
Still red, he’d stumbled through an admittance of his feelings. He’d kept it to mostly physical attraction--he couldn’t imagine how incessant Robin’s mockery would get if she discovered that Steve liked Billy for more than his body.  
“I can’t believe you like guys,” Robin had said when Steve had finished his explanation. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”  
That was the day they’d started ‘dating.’ Only Linda knew it wasn’t true. It was a compromise born of Dustin’s innocent joke and being two closeted gay--or at least queer; Steve still liked girls, but he liked boys too, and he didn’t know what to call that--best friends in a small, scared town.  
Best friends. That’s what they were. Steve hadn’t really had a best friend before Robin. Lying back to back with her in the dark, he felt immensely grateful that the universe had seen fit to send him Robin.  
Robin had a crush!  
“You have a crush,” Steve mumbled sleepily.   
Robin sighed, but Steve could hear her smile as she replied, “Shut up, dingus.”


	2. So I Wouldn't Blame You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A triple date leads to some possibly real dates and an overly-comprehensive apartment tour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for a brief mention of an eating disorder.

Their hopeless crushes didn’t come up again until the triple date. Steve and Robin had been invited along with Jonathan and Nancy for ice cream on Friday evening before picking the kids up from the football game where they were supporting Dustin in the marching band, and lo and behold, Billy and Heather were at the table next to them. Nancy, who had grown closer with Heather since they both joined the swim team, had proposed pushing the tables together.  
That was how Steve ended up squished between Robin and Billy, wondering what he’d done to deserve this.  
Luckily, Robin couldn’t tease him much as she was trying valiantly to make eye contact with Heather without blushing and failing spectacularly.  
Jonathan and Nancy had obviously noticed something, but they weren’t quite sure what it was. Nancy, being Nancy, started talking.  
“How’s work going, Steve?” She asked. Of course, he had just put a bite of ice cream in his mouth when she did, so they had to wait for twelve painful seconds as he finished eating it.  
“Good,” he replied finally. “I’m still at Family Video with this one.” He nudged Robin with his shoulder, and as he rocked back, he felt Billy tensing against him.  
“You two live together now, right?” Nancy continued. Steve nodded, bumping Robin’s ear with his temple. “Domestic bliss, huh?” Nancy said, and Steve could tell by the look on her face she was trying to get him to tell her whatever secret he was keeping.  
“Definitely,” Robin said, coming to the rescue as always. “It’s been--what, two and a half months now?”  
“Almost three,” Steve said. Nancy still didn’t look convinced, so he squeezed Robin’s hand and she leaned over and pecked his cheek. The kiss may have been fake, but the smiles they gave each other were genuine.  
“Awe!” Heather squealed. “You’re so cute together. I can’t believe your parents are cool with you living together. Billy and I had to beg mine to let me leave, even after I turned eighteen.”  
“Linda’s been great,” Steve told her.  
“What about your parents, Steve?” Jonathan asked.  
Robin ran her thumb across the back of his hand before answering for him, “They’re just glad he’s settling down.”  
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, because Billy stood up suddenly, jostling the table and nearly upending their half-finished ice creams. “I’ve gotta--go,” he stammered, before practically sprinting back to his car. He stripped off his leather jacket, letting it fall to the ground, and leaned over, bracing himself on the bumper as his back heaved.  
Heather sighed. “It’s been a hard week,” she explained. “Lots of dreams.” She followed him, moving softly but purposefully. Her past as a dancer showed--she’d only quit when her eating disorder almost killed her. It had caused her to take a year off of school to recover, meaning she had to repeat the eighth grade. She’d switched to swimming and running after that because they both valued strength over slimness, even for the girls.  
An uncomfortable silence hung over the table as the two remaining couples watched Billy fall into Heather’s open arms, tucking his head into her neck and holding her tightly around the waist. She ran her hands across his shaking shoulders, murmuring something into his ear.  
After a few minutes, he pulled away, standing up out of his slouch. Heather kissed the dip in his collarbone, and he rested his lips on her forehead. Eventually, he nodded, picking up the jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders. She kissed the hinge of his jaw under his ear--the highest place she could reach--and took his hand, leading him back into the diner.  
“Sorry about that,” Billy said as they sat back down, hands still linked over the top of the table. “Lately, I’ve just…well.”  
“No need to explain,” Nancy said gently, face warm and maternal. “We’ve all been there.”  
All six of the teenagers had experienced horrible things; fighting real monsters left you with wounds you couldn’t always see or heal.  
“So,” Heather said after a pause, “how’re things for you two?”  
Conversation switched to Jonathan’s finally peaceful darkroom and Nancy’s uppity fax machine that wouldn’t work right for longer than half an hour. Robin mentioned college applications at one point, and Nancy chimed in excitedly with her own stories. They compared dream schools and chattered about essays. Jonathan and Steve watched their girls fondly, and Billy and Heather listened with looks that were equal parts wistful and relieved.

After they’d finished their ice creams, Nancy, Steve, and Billy paid for their respective dates and the six of them wandered out to the parking lot and began to drift to their seperate cars. As Billy was opening the door for Heather, she nudged him and gave Steve and Robin a pointed look.  
He cleared his throat and said, “Hey, pretty boy?” When he was met with four surprised looks, he swallowed before continuing, “Wanna come over to our place and hang out?”  
Steve glanced at Robin, who flashed her eyes at him, as if to say, Yes, dingus! “What about the kids?” Steve asked lamely.  
“We’ve got them,” Nancy assured him. “Jon’s mom and Hopper are coming too.”  
“Max can stay with us,” Jonathan added. “You know she’d ask. She just got some new comics she wants to show Jane.”  
“Okay,” Steve agreed. “We’ll follow you,” he said to Billy.  
Billy nodded and got in his car with Heather, driving off. Steve and Robin followed suit. They tailed the Camaro to the edge of town, pulling into the cracking parking lot of Junction Apartments. It was by the train tracks, which thankfully lowered the value enough for it to be affordable for Billy and Heather and still have a roof.  
They got out of their respective cars, locked them, and crowded awkwardly at the stairwell door as Billy tried to unlock it. He was fumbling a bit, fingers trembling, and Heather held out her hand for the keys before he could get too frustrated. He passed them to her, and she opened the door. “Apartment 23,” she said. “Third door on the third floor.”  
They climbed the stairs in echoing silence before Heather unlocked the door to the third floor hallway. Billy held the door open as she, Steve, and Robin walked through, then trailed behind them as Heather unlocked the door to their apartment.  
“Come on in,” she said brightly, stepping inside and shedding Billy’s jacket, hanging it on one of the three hooks on the closet door. “I’ll take your coats.” She put Steve’s on Max’s hook and Robin’s on hers. “Want something to drink? Water? Tea? Nothing hard here, I’m afraid.”  
“Water’s fine,” Steve said. “Gotta drive. Plus, there’s work tomorrow.”  
“Four waters, coming up,” Heather said with a smile, switching on the living room lamp. “Billiam, dear, would you mind locking the door?”  
Billy nodded, locking the handle and sliding the chain through, but leaving the deadbolt back. He hung the keys on their hook and stood hunched over with his hands in his pockets until Heather beckoned him into the corner of the apartment that housed the kitchen, which he had to duck under the ceiling light to enter. “Make yourselves at home,” she called to Steve and Robin, who sat on the second-hand couch and looked around the small apartment.  
The floors were all carpeted except for the tiled kitchen, and everything smelled a little like coffee, grapefruits, and aftershave. Across from them was a lamp and an old TV, sitting on top of a cabinet pushed into the corner. Beside the cabinet was a door, probably to the bedroom, and another, this one with a bathrobe hanging off a hook, clearly to the bathroom. Beside the couch was the free-standing lamp Heather had turned on and a small chest with Max’s skateboard propped up against it; she wasn’t allowed to use it at night.  
Next to that was the dining table, creating a barrier between the living room and kitchen. It bumped up against the fridge, which was squeezed between the table and the counter that held the sink. The only window was on the wall across from the door and the kitchen, above the coffee table that sat in between the couch and the TV, and it cast long shadows from the streetlights in the parking lot.  
“Nice place,” Steve said. If nothing else, he was good at finding things to compliment. “It’s really nicely decorated. You get a lot of light from just one window.”  
“Thanks,” Heather laughed, rummaging through a cupboard for water glasses. “You’re very sweet to say so. Most of our stuff’s hand-me-downs. There’s another window in the bedroom, though.”  
The bedroom. Where Heather and Billy slept. Together. “Where does Max sleep?” Steve said, trying to get that thought out of his mind.  
“On the couch,” Heather replied, nodding in their direction as she filled three matching glasses and a mason jar with water from the tap. “It pulls out into a bed.”  
“We keep offering to switch with her,” Billy added, coming over and sitting on the only remaining available cushion on the couch after turning on the lamp beside the TV. “She won’t do it. I still feel bad, though. Kid deserves her own space. I can’t wait until we’ve saved up enough for a two-bedroom place.”  
“You’re gonna be such a good dad,” Heather said fondly as she set three of the waters on the three coasters on the coffee table, handing the fourth to Billy.  
Billy smiled, pulling her onto his lap. “You’re gonna be such a good mother,” he replied. They kissed quickly, then turned to Steve and Robin, who were both staring at them like morons.  
“You’re pregnant?” Steve blurted injudiciously, which earned him a kick to the ankle from Robin.  
“No, no,” Heather laughed. “We’re not even engaged yet.”  
Yet. Before the thought of that could completely crush Steve, Billy asked, “Are you? Engaged, I mean?”  
“Um,” Robin squeaked. “No?”  
“Your mother must be very modern,” Heather said. “Mine called me a cheap little harlot when I said I was moving in with Billy. It wasn’t until I turned eighteen in August that she relented. Daddy just made me get a job first, so he wouldn’t be paying for me to ‘run around with that troublemaker,’ as he put it.”  
“My mother rocks,” Robin said honestly. “Where do you work?” She added.  
“I’m a hostess at Enzo’s,” Heather replied, “and I still babysit sometimes. Of course, during the summer, Billy and I will work at the pool.”  
“You’re staying in Hawkins next summer?” Steve asked.  
“I’m staying in Hawkins forever,” Heather said. “College isn’t for me. I’m not really the academic type.”  
“Well, not forever,” Billy corrected. “Once Maxine’s old enough, we’re gonna split. We’re moving back to Cali.”  
“I can’t wait,” Heather sighed. “I’ve never seen the ocean.”  
“We’ll swim every day,” Billy grinned, kissing her face by her ear softly. “I’ll teach you how to surf and everything.”  
“Could you teach me?” Steve asked. “I mean, when we visit you? If we can visit you? Robs will be at college, but she can hang during the summers, right?”  
“Of course you can visit us,” Billy said after a pause. “I’m sure Maxine will insist on it.”  
“I’d like to learn how to surf,” Robin said with a smile. “Bet I’ll get better than you, Billy.”  
“Please!” Billy scoffed. “No one beats the master.”  
“He’s going to be like that the whole time,” Heather laughed, and he pinched her side.  
“Maybe we can drag Nancy and Jonathan with us,” Steve said. “They could bring the kids. The Hoppers could come, too. Like a reunion.”  
“A reunion,” Billy pondered. “That sounds nice.”  
It really did.  
In that moment, sitting on that couch in the small, homey apartment, Steve could almost imagine that he was the one who lived here with Billy, the one who would move to California with him, the one who fell asleep beside him and drove Max to school with him and kissed him off to work.  
Then Heather rested her head on top of Billy’s and the illusion shattered. Steve remembered his arm around Robin, how it was supposed to mean something it didn’t, never could.  
They talked about Billy’s job at the mechanic’s and how Dustin was trying to get Max to teach him to skate and the AP French test Heather was worried about. Robin offered to tutor her, and Heather agreed easily. They made a study date for Sunday morning, when both Enzo’s and Family Video were closed, ostensibly for church. Apparently, so was the mechanic’s.  
“What will we do while our women are busy?” Billy asked, and Steve’s heart skipped a beat.  
“Play some basketball,” Robin suggested. “You both miss it, and you’re both good at it. We’ll become intellectuals while you boys get all sweaty.”  
“See you at the park on Sunday, then, pretty boy,” Billy said, and Steve tried to hide his blush as he nodded.  
Steve and Robin left around eleven, nervous and excited, apprehensively looking forward to Sunday morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm working on Chapter Three now, which will cover the "dates."


	3. The Bearer of Bad News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Heather prepare for their dates-that-aren't-dates, obsess over outfits, and generally gay panic. Featuring MORE OF THE OVERLY DESCRIPTIVE APARTMENT TOUR-BEDROOM EDITION!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Hope it's worth it.

“We are idiots.” Robin sighed, staring at her bedroom, which was covered in fabric. Except for the spots where she and Steve stood, just about all available surfaces were strewn with almost every article of clothing she owned, with the exception of her pajamas, her homemade Michelle Didn’t Remember Shit t-shirt, and her baptismal gown, the last of which she could only fit over her wrist at this point.  
“We knew that,” Steve replied.  
“I hate that I’m about to say this, but can you help me?” Robin asked. When Steve stared at her in surprise, she added, “I’ve never done this before! You’re like a dating expert.”  
“It’s not really a date,” Steve insisted.  
“Why were you looking through your Guaranteed Lucky Date Outfits then?” Robin shot back.  
“I was not!” Steve argued, even though he had been, only ten minutes ago. “Besides, we’re gonna play basketball. It’s not like I can wear Keds and a polo.”  
“Thank fuck,” Robin muttered.  
“Just be you,” Steve told her. “Not the you that you think she’ll like, not the you people have liked before, not the you that wants people to like you, just you. If she doesn’t like that, she’s just wrong.”  
Robin smiled at him. “You’re in love, Harrington.”  
“Shut up,” Steve replied, leaning over and kissing the top of her head. “And don’t wear your purple vest. You look like the lost goth member of the Shangri Las.”

Steve and Robin were on babysitting duty on Saturdays when the kids were at the arcade since it was so close to Family Video and both were owned by the same billion-year-old flesh toad. Today, luckily (for Steve, who still hated him), Keith was at the arcade--where Dustin had been beaten at a game by Erica, and so was pouting and reading comics in the backroom of the video store.  
This was making it worse, or more accurately, Robin was making it worse.  
“What in the goddamn everloving fuck did you do to your hair?” Robin laughed.  
“I’m trying!” Dustin whined. “I can’t afford all those fancy products! This is the cheap-o version of Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, alright? Leave me alone.”  
“You look like an owl shit on your head and then made a nest in it,” Robin teased.  
“Be nice,” Steve admonished, but he had to agree--it did look pretty bad. “Have a good day,” he added to the scrawny teenager who was renting The Karate Kid.  
“Have you seen it?” Robin asked incredulously. “It’s totally flat on one side and the front is gelled with what I’m pretty sure is craft glue!”  
“He’s fourteen, Robs,” Steve shot back. “You didn’t exactly look like Seventeen when you were a freshman.”  
“No, I didn’t,” Robin replied. “I looked like RAW.”  
Steve snorted. “You looked like a try-hard.”  
“Hope you try harder than this tomorrow,” Robin said, gesturing at Dustin’s attempt at the famous Steve Harrington Hair.  
“What’s tomorrow?” Dustin asked.  
“Sunday,” Steve answered casually.  
“C’mon!” Dustin groused, kicking his legs around. “You’re always doing cool grownup stuff and I never get to hear about it!”  
“Christ, kid, we’re just hanging out with Billy and Heather,” Steve said with great exasperation.  
“Like a double date?” Dustin asked excitedly.  
“Kind of,” Robin grinned.  
“Not ‘kind of,’ Robin, it’s not a date,” Steve argued. “Robin’s going to help Heather study for her French test and Billy and I are playing basketball.”  
“Why would you need to try hard for that?” Dustin asked.  
“He’s vain,” Robin replied.  
Dustin still looked confused, but he went back to his comic book.  
Since everything that had happened--Will’s kidnapping, Jane’s escape, Barb’s death, discovering Kali and the other “experiments,” the takedown of Brenner and the labs, the residual effects of the tests on Jane and the rest of the town, the car accident--seeing any of the kids doing something as simple as reading a comic and struggling to do their hair was comforting. It felt good; not like going back to normal, but like moving forward into a new way of being--a better way, healed and whole.

Steve and Robin woke on Sunday morning pensive and jittery. Robin spilled the milk for her cereal across the counter and Steve accidentally cracked his elbow on the bathroom door frame.  
At eight-thirty, half an hour before the dates-that-weren’t-dates were to begin, they sat, dressed in carefully-picked outfits, in Steve’s car, freaking the fuck out.  
Robin had tied her hair back in three styles before leaving it down and was in a black button-up shirt and dark-wash jeans, cuffed just above her boots, which she’d cleaned for the occasion like a nerd. She still wore her usual jewelry and leather jacket, but had been a little more attentive to her makeup, blotting her lipstick twice--just in case.  
Steve would’ve mocked her, but he hadn’t spent this long on his hair since he was in highschool. He wore a loose athletic T-shirt (not the Hawkins High one from his school days--that one was Robin’s sleep shirt) and basketball shorts, his trusty sneakers carefully tied (Robin made him put in new laces). He had a water bottle, a towel, and a change of clothes--jeans, Keds, and a polo--in a bag in the back, beside Robin’s French notes and textbooks.  
“Let’s just go,” he was saying over and over while holding the keys but making no move to put them in the ignition. “Let’s just go.”  
“Alright,” Robin said. She was twisting her cuff the way she did during Pre-Calc homework (for all her language and music savvy, she was crap with math and science).  
“Let’s just go,” Steve said again, still not moving. “Let’s just go. Robin, you drive.”  
He threw the keys to her, and she fumbled them into her lap before giving him an annoyed look. “Steve,” she said incredulously, “if I drive, we won’t get there until Reagan’s out of office.”  
Steve sighed and took the keys back, only understanding the reference because Robin made him pay attention to politics. He started the car and began the drive to the school, which opened certain rooms on weekends; the music rooms for rehearsals, the gym for practices, and the library for studying.  
The whole time they drove to Plastic Letters, Robin’s comfort album, she kept twisting her cuff, until Steve took her hand and kissed the knuckles. She smiled and started conjugating French verbs in the subjunctive to the tune of the song playing--No Imagination. She got stuck at one point, repeating; “Aime, aimes, aime, aimions, aimiez, aiment.” Steve knew that one--aimer; to love.  
When they got to the school, Robin didn’t get out of the car right away; she checked her hair in the rear-view mirror, then in the side mirror, then in Steve’s extra sunglasses that he kept in the glove compartment.  
“Robs,” Steve said in a gently teasing tone, “you look great. You’re studying French, okay? It’s gonna be alright.” Robin nodded, took a deep breath, and got out of the car. When she pulled her books and papers from the back, Steve added, “And your hair’s great. Y’know, in my expert opinion.”  
Robin scoffed, rolling her eyes. “See ya, dingus,” she said, closing the door and heading to the school. Steve shot her a thumbs up and she grinned before disappearing inside.  
Steve took a deep breath before shifting gears and heading in the direction of Billy and Heather’s apartment.

When Steve pulled into the unevenly-paved lot, Billy was waiting for him, propping open the door with his shoulder. He was in a large tank top,basketball shorts, and sneakers. His hair, as it had been since it was shaved for the surgery after the accident, was short and curly and styled upwards in a paltry attempt to recreate his former mullet.  
“Hey,” Steve called as he got out of the car.  
“Always nice to see you, pretty boy,” Billy called back, making Steve blush a little. “Wanna come in?”  
Steve nodded, locked his car, and hurried through the chill to where Billy was standing with a quick, “Thanks,” when Billy held the door open for him.  
Once they were inside and upstairs, Billy only pulled the chain across; clearly, they weren’t staying long. He rummaged in the kitchen while Steve stood awkwardly by the bathroom door and looked around. It was a cozy apartment, really. It smelled of trying; of perfume that was cheap but not tacky, of thrift-store dishes, of homemade candles, of off-brand soap.  
“Pretty boy,” Billy said suddenly, and Steve started. They both laughed a little to ease some of the tension before Billy continued, “it’s a little cold outside. I’m gonna grab a sweatshirt. You wanna borrow one?”  
“Sure,” Steve said, nodding after a hesitant pause.  
Billy led Steve into the bedroom.

It wasn’t like how Steve had imagined Billy Hargrove’s bedroom (not that he’d done that often); there were no overflowing ashtrays, no empty liquor bottles, no posters of women in bikinis. What was there was a welcoming quality, an atmosphere of gentle care and quiet healing.  
Directly across from the door was a freestanding wardrobe with three drawers below a set of doors that opened to a space for hanging clothes. One of the doors was open, leaning against the wall, and Steve could see some of Heather’s stuff; dresses, sweaters, a few hats, and a mirror on the inside of the door. The other side must’ve been Billy’s.  
On the wall between the dresser and the door was a small mirror above a low set of shelves full of books and records. On top was a record player, a lamp, and two containers, a basket and a plastic tub. The basket held makeup, some barrettes, a bottle of perfume; clearly, it was Heather’s vanity. The tub had cologne, about a dozen hair products, and several different bottles of medications. Steve figured it was Billy’s.  
Across from the bookshelf was the window Heather had mentioned. It showed a similar view to the living room; the weed-filled parking lot, the trees, the train tracks if you looked hard where the foliage was thinner. Under it was the bed, neatly made with white sheets and a kelly green bedspread. On either side, there was a bedside table with a lamp, all of it mismatched and old, but clean and cared for. One had a lighter and a radio on it--that was Billy’s; Steve could tell from the small surfboard that served as the pull on the lamp--and the other, which must’ve been Heather’s, had a box of tissues, a candle, an alarm clock, and a framed photo.  
The picture caught Steve’s attention. It was of Billy and Heather the day they got out of the hospital. He was leaning on the hood of the Camaro, and she was in front of him with his arms around her waist. Max had probably taken it, before she drove them home; Billy lay in the backseat with his head in Heather’s lap the whole way.  
Steve had been there; everyone had. It was a celebration, them getting out of the hospital. Everyone had cheered quietly as Billy took his first steps outside in six weeks. Heather, who hadn’t been hurt as badly, helped him to the car, where the kids and then Steve, Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan had given hugs and handshakes of congratulations.  
Soon, though, they were being shooed away, piling into cars and heading to their respective homes to do schoolwork and chores and gardening and laundry and reading and watching TV and all the normal things they’d been deprived of for so long.  
Who would’ve thought a series of increasingly-traumatic experiences with shady government experiments, child abductions, and gunfights against demonic torture victims was all it would take to make you nostalgic for pop quizzes?  
Steve had driven Jane, Lucas, and Dustin home, but not before watching Max pull the car out of the parking lot and begin to drive home. She’d improved a lot since the last time Steve had seen her drive; she didn’t even hit anything.  
“Like what you see?” Billy asked. Steve jumped a little. Billy smirked. “The sweatshirt,” he clarified, and Steve tore his eyes away from Billy enough to see his outstretched hand that was holding--holy shit, his high school basketball hoodie. Not the one from Hawkins; from James Buchanan High School. In California.  
“I--don’t you need it?” Steve asked, not fully knowing what was happening. He was standing at the foot of the bed, halfway between Heather’s side and Billy’s, who was by the dresser.  
“Nah,” Billy answered easily. “I got this one.” He held up his other hand, which was holding a grey zip-up hoodie with slightly uneven seams. “Heather made it for me. She’s got a sewing machine and a whole kit full of thread and needles and shit in the hutch under her nightstand.”  
Steve nodded slowly, reaching for the offered sweatshirt--and Billy was closer. When did he get closer? “Thank you,” he muttered, looking down as he took the sweatshirt.  
“Pretty boy?” Billy said, voice tinged with uncertainty. “You okay?” He used his newly-freed hand to take Steve’s chin and--Jesus, what the fuck--tip it up so they were eye to eye.  
Steve nodded again, leaning into the touch without meaning to. “Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, “I’m just--I don’t really--I don’t exactly understand what’s happening.”  
Billy stepped closer, Steve saw it this time, he stepped closer and he dropped the jacket onto the bed and he curled his newly-freed hand around Steve’s hip, holy shit--  
“Whatever you want to have happen, pretty boy,” Billy breathed, and that was it, Steve was gone.  
He leaned forward and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the cliffhanger. I'll try and have the next chapter out as soon as I can, but my summer school classes are kind of kicking my ass at the moment.


	4. I've Got No Excuse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Billy figure some things out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! School and driver's ed have been kicking my ass. Hope you enjoy!

Billy kissed him back. It was softer than Steve had expected, gentler, but still all sharp teeth and hot breath and something unmistakably Billy. His hands held Steve’s waist like it was glass and he loved the feeling of shattering. Steve moaned into the kiss and the noise woke him up.  
He pulled away.  
“What’s wrong?” Billy asked, seeming genuinely concerned.  
“We can’t do this,” Steve murmured, stepping past Billy’s stunned frame. “I’m sorry.”  
He was almost at the door when Billy caught his wrist. “I don’t understand,” he said, voice pleading.  
“Heather,” Steve said, still a little breathless. “You--you have a girlfriend!”  
“So do you,” Billy replied with a cheeky grin.  
“No,” Steve tried to explain, “we’re not really together. We’re helping each other hide.”  
“So are Heather and I,” Billy said, seemingly surprised.  
Steve laughed. “So we’re….”  
“Idiots,” Billy finished.  
“I was going to say ‘similar,’ but that’s true too,” Steve smiled. That smile was irresistible, apparently, because Billy kissed him again, less subtle than before.  
Steve kissed back for a moment before regretfully pulling away. “We need to talk,” he said.  
“C’mere,” Billy said, leading Steve to the couch, still holding his hand. They sat beside each other, hands linked. “What do you wanna talk about?”  
“Us,” Steve replied. “What do you want this to be? Is this just another fling to you?”  
In response, Billy kissed him again. “I like you,” he said after pulling away. “This isn’t a fling unless you want it to be.”  
“No!” Steve rushed out. “No, please. I--I like you too. For a while now, actually.”  
“I’ve liked you since after the accident,” Billy said. “I was in the hospital, and you visited every day. I know you were just bringing the kids, but one time they all went to get snacks and you stayed and we just talked about basketball, and I realized I’d never felt this way before.”  
Steve remembered that day. By that point, he was already starting to have feelings for Billy. That has been a nice conversation.  
“I just tried to ignore it,” Billy continued. “Heather helped a lot. She’d come to terms with her own stuff a few years ago--she said I could tell you--and she coaxed me out of repression. She’s a real good girl. Your friend is lucky.”  
Steve grinned, then realized something. “She’s not really out,” he explained. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”  
“I won’t say anything,” Billy promised. “So...when was it for you?”  
“When you came into the video store without a shirt on,” Steve replied, blushing. Billy grinned. “You looked so good, all tan except for your scars.”  
Billy’s face crumbled in an instant. His breath began to sharpen, and Steve didn’t know what to do. Billy panted, curling in on himself like a flower at sunset. Steve held him instinctually, prying his shoulders open.  
“I’m sorry,” Steve said, bewildered. “I didn’t mean--here. Hold my hand. Just breathe. Okay?” Billy nodded, gripping tightly. After a few moments, his breath was back to a normal cadence.  
He leaned back, exhausted. “Sorry,” he said after a while. “I get panic attacks.”  
“Don’t apologize,” Steve told him, squeezing his hand. “You’ve been through a lot. It makes sense.”  
“You still want me now?” Billy laughed half-heartedly, eyes desperate and sad.  
“Of course I do,” Steve replied, cupping Billy’s face in his hands. “You’re amazing.”  
Billy looked away, chewing his fingernails as he said, “I can be a handful.”  
Steve grinned. “That’s why I’ve got two hands.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and leave kudos if you feel so inclined. Will be updating soon!


	5. I'm Just Like Everyone Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They work some things out :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! Hope you enjoy.

Steve kissed him again. He couldn’t really believe this was happening. He was kissing Billy Hargrove.  
And it was amazing. They were sitting beside each other on the couch, Steve with one leg thrown over both of Billy’s, his head resting against Billy’s shoulder. Billy’s tongue slipped into his mouth and Steve moaned involuntarily. It was warm and comfortable and Steve felt like he had longed for this for centuries.  
The phone rang. They jumped apart almost guiltily and Billy hurried to answer it. “He--um, hello?” He said, clearing the huskiness from his voice with a cough. “Hey, Heather,” he grinned, relaxing. His eyes widened. “Really? That’s awesome!” Then he blushed. “Yeah,” he said, “it did. Really well.” He turned to smile at Steve, who smiled back. “See you soon,” Billy said before hanging up the phone.  
“What did she say?” Steve asked.  
“She and Robin kissed,” Billy replied.  
“This has been a good day for everyone,” Steve laughed.  
“I’m gonna go pick her up in about an hour,” Billy said. “Robin’s ready to go now, though. You guys have something to do, apparently.”  
“Homework,” Steve replied. “I help her with math.”  
Neither of them moved for a while. Then Billy came over to where Steve was still sitting and bent down to kiss him. It was quick and soft and wonderful. “You have to go,” Billy murmured, lips still brushing Steve’s.  
“Okay.” Steve didn’t move.  
“C’mon,” Billy said, pulling Steve to his feet. “Your girl’s gotta graduate.” Steve swayed, leaning in for another kiss. He got one. Billy pulled away regretfully. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked.  
“Sure,” Steve said. “Dinner? I’ll cook if you wash up.”  
“Definitely,” Billy replied. “My place or yours?”  
“Let’s eat here,” Steve said. “Robin and her mom will be at home.”  
“It’s a date,” Billy said, and they both smiled into a kiss. “You’ve gotta go,” Billy reminded him.  
Steve sighed, leaning their foreheads together, looking down to their interlocked hands. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised.  
“See you tomorrow, pretty boy,” Billy said.  
Steve left after one last kiss, heading to the school to pick up Robin. He was kind of buzzing. He drove wildly, too ecstatic to care about crashing. When he pulled into the school parking lot, he almost hit the head of the science department. Once he’d managed to park, he rushed to the library to find Robin.  
When he spotted her, giggling with Heather at a table in a hidden corner, he smiled softly before going over. “Hey,” he hissed.  
“Hey, dingus,” Robin replied.  
Steve slid into the seat beside her, kissing her cheek half out of habit before realizing he was sitting in front of her girlfriend. “I heard it went well,” he whispered into Robin’s ear.  
She blushed. “So did yours, huh?” She replied, and he nodded.  
“I’m getting jealous,” Heather sing-songed, and Steve leaned back.  
“Learn much French?” He asked. Heather ducked her head. “Alright then. Time to go?” He added to Robin. She nodded.  
“Bye,” Heather grinned, kissing her quickly.  
“Bye,” Robin murmured. She and Steve were barely out of the library before they burst into laughter.  
“So you’re dating?” Steve asked.  
“Yep,” Robin grinned, popping the ‘p’ as they left the building. “And you and him?”  
“Mm-hm,” Steve said, smiling. “We’re having dinner tomorrow night.” They slid into the car. “His place. I’m cooking.”  
“Perfect,” Robin said. “Heather and I are studying again tomorrow after school.”  
“Make that a sleepover and I’ll love you forever,” Steve said. “I want to spend some time with him.”  
“I bet you do,” Robin teased.  
Steve blushed and shook his head, but she was right.  
Little did he know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!


	6. Fucked Up Like Everyone Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy and Steve finally fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is smut, so be wary. There are dom/sub undertones.

Steve showed up at Billy’s at seven the next night, dressed in a button-down shirt and jeans. Robin had laughed at him until he rolled up the sleeves.  
He hurried from his car through the chilly air to where Billy was waiting by the door in a T-shirt and jeans with his hair tied back. “Hey, pretty boy,” he said with a grin. Steve blushed. Billy wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him inside for a kiss.  
Steve melted into it. It was so warm, so tender, and felt so much more like home than anything else but Robin ever had. But she was different. She was a den, and this was a bedroom.  
“Let’s go upstairs?” Steve suggested once they pulled away.  
Billy smiled, half lustful and half loving. “Sure.”  
They walked slowly, holding hands until the hallway, then again once the apartment door was locked.  
“Where’s Max?” Steve asked as they went into the kitchen where something was bubbling in a pot on the stove. Steve hopped onto the counter and Billy stirred the pot before turning the burner off.  
“Lucas’s,” Billy replied. “I figured, if I’m gonna get laid, why shouldn’t she?” Steve froze. “Relax, pretty boy,” he laughed. “I’m joking. We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”  
“I want to,” Steve blurted. “I do. I’m just...nervous.”  
“Is this your first time with a guy?” Billy asked. Steve nodded shyly. “Okay,” Billy said. “We’ll just do what you’re comfortable with.” A pause then, “Hey.” And then Billy was between Steve’s knees.  
Steve leaned down to capture his lips in a kiss. Still soft and gentle and loving and everything they needed.  
But nothing they wanted.  
Steve pressed in closer. Reflexively, Billy’s hands tightened on his waist, but he was still holding back. “Billy,” Steve gasped.  
“Pretty boy,” Billy murmured.  
“You don’t need to be gentle with me,” Steve told him. “I want you to be rough. Want you to fuck me.”  
Billy groaned, his head falling forward onto Steve’s shoulder. “Pretty boy.”  
Steve’s slick lips parted, breath harsh, and he breathed, “Please.”  
Something seemed to snap in Billy. He pulled Steve off the counter and kissed him hard, tongue slipping into his mouth. Steve moaned into the kiss, rolling his hips into Billy’s. They began stumbling towards the bedroom. Soon, Steve was pressed against the door, Billy mouthing at his collarbone as he fumbled at the doorknob.  
Steve almost fell as the door swung open. They walked together into the room, Billy pushing Steve down onto the bed. He drew Billy down to continue kissing by the back of his neck, fingernails digging in as their mouths met. It was hot and messy and nothing like before, and they revelled in the freedom it brought.  
Billy began tugging at the buttons of Steve’s shirt, and together their feverish fingers undid them until he was naked from the waist up. Billy lowered his head and began sucking marks across Steve’s chest. Steve’s head rolled back and he moaned, loud and unashamed.  
“Pretty boy,” Billy muttered, rising back up over Steve. “What do you want?”  
“Want you to hurt me,” Steve said breathily.  
Billy pulled back. “I can’t,” he said, sitting down facing away from Steve. “I don’t wanna be like him.”  
Steve sat up. “Billy.” He put his hands on Billy’s face, made him meet his eyes. “You will never be like him. I want this. This is different. You are different.”  
Billy leaned in, kiss full of trust and love. Their tongues slid against each other, hot and wet and smooth. Steve pulled them down, Billy hovering over him. They ground against each other, pouring emotion into every second. Billy stood up, pulling his shirt over his head and staring down at Steve with fire in his eyes.  
“Fuck me,” Steve gasped.  
Billy groaned, fingers fumbling at the button of Steve’s jeans. “Whatever you want, pretty boy.” He yanked the jeans down Steve’s long, sinewy legs until he was only in his boxers. Billy sunk to his knees, mouthed at Steve’s dick through the cloth.  
Steve moaned and threaded his hands in Billy’s curls. “Please,” he begged, “please.”  
Billy dragged the boxers off, tossing them across the room carelessly, so Steve was completely bare beneath him. Steve sat up a little, began clawing at Billy’s jeans. Billy kicked them off, and--Jesus. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath.  
Steve fell back, breathing heavy. “Christ,” he panted.  
Billy leaned back over him. “You good, pretty boy?”  
Steve nodded. “Very.” He slid up the bed until his head was resting on the pillows. Billy reached over him to his bedside table and pulled out lube and a condom. He popped open the bottle and squirted some lube over his fingers. He pressed them to Steve’s entrance, making him squirm from the cold.  
“Okay?” Billy asked. Steve nodded again, head bobbing quickly. Billy slipped the tip of his middle finger inside him, slowly inching further. He was being so goddamn gentle, and it was driving Steve crazy.  
“Please,” he moaned. “Harder.” Billy began to finger-fuck Steve faster, but Steve was insatiable. “More,” he begged.  
Billy shoved his first two fingers into Steve’s hole. Steve almost screamed from the waves of pleasure and pain washing over him. Billy spread his fingers, stretching his pretty boy open for him. “Ready?” He breathed, and Steve whimpered, which he took as a yes. He added a third finger, pressing deeper until Steve’s back arched and he let out the best noise Billy had ever heard.  
There it is, he thought.  
“Billy,” Steve moaned.  
“You ready for me, pretty boy?” Billy murmured.  
“Please,” Steve panted.  
Billy ripped open the condom and slid it on with slippery fingers, ran a layer of lube over his dick, and lined himself up at Steve’s entrance. He pushed in slowly, making Steve groan and dig his fingers into Billy’s shoulders and beg, “Faster, faster.”  
Billy slammed into him hard, setting a harsh pace, hands gripping Steve’s hips hard enough to leave bruises. Steve moaned, clutching at Billy’s back. “You like that?” Billy said, and Steve knew he really meant it.  
“Yes,” Steve breathed. “More.”  
Billy sped up. Steve moaned louder, crossing his ankles behind Billy’s back. He grabbed at Billy’s neck, pulling him down for a heated kiss. “God,” Billy hissed. “Love this. Love you.”  
Everything was suspended for a moment before Steve choked out, “Love you, Billy. Love you,” and Billy resumed, but slower this time, hitting that spot inside Steve every time.  
That was too much for Steve. He screamed and came untouched across his torso. “God, god,” he whined. “Fuck me, Billy, please.”  
“Fuck,” Billy groaned out, fucking Steve through his orgasm. “You’re so fucking tight.”  
“For you,” Steve said, hand brushing Billy’s hair back where it was escaping his ponytail. “Just for you.”  
That was it; Billy came, hissing out, “Steve,” through a clenched jaw. As Billy filled him, Steve realized it was the first time he’d said his name.

Once Billy had pulled out and disposed of the condom, they lay curled together in the dark. “That was a really nice first time,” Steve murmured.  
“I’m glad,” Billy replied, caressing his arm. “I didn’t hurt you?”  
“You did,” Steve said, “but I liked it.” He wriggled closer, tucking his head onto Billy’s chest. “Love you.”  
“I love you too, Steve,” Billy told him.  
Steve looked up at him. “You said my name again. You didn’t call me pretty boy. I like it.”  
“Steve,” Billy said, almost reverently. “My Steve.”  
“All yours,” Steve said. “Your Steve.”  
They lay in silence for a moment before Billy said, “Hey, we should probably clean up.”  
“Wanna shower?” Steve asked, flicking his eyebrows up and down.  
Billy grinned. “Absolutely.”

They woke the next morning to stifled cooing. They opened their eyes to see Heather and Robin standing at the foot of the bed, trying not to giggle and failing.  
Steve blinked. He’d slept in his boxers and Billy’s shirt from the night before, while Billy was in just his underwear. They were lying with Steve’s head over Billy’s heart, their drying hair tangling together.  
“Good morning,” Billy mumbled without opening his eyes. “Fuck off.”  
Robin and Heather burst out laughing. “So how was dinner?” Robin asked. Steve blushed, tucking his face into Billy’s chest to hide.  
“We didn’t eat,” Billy replied.  
“Not the food, at least,” Heather quipped. That sent her and Robin off again until they could only stand by holding each other up.  
“Shut up,” Steve whined.  
“We just need the keys,” Robin said. “My mom dropped us off.”  
“They’re in the back pocket of his jeans,” Billy told her. “Now leave us alone.”  
Robin dug the keys out of Steve’s jeans and hurried out the door, Heather’s arm around her waist. They ran down the stairs after locking the door, laughing together as they burst into the crisp autumn air.  
Robin drove as they picked up all the kids. While everyone was getting situated, Dustin asked, “Where’s Steve?”  
“Busy,” Heather replied.  
Robin grinned, turning to the backseat full of kids as she asked, “What’s the music, Maxine?”  
Manic Monday drove them to school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I really liked writing this. Will not be my last work.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! This is the first fic I've ever posted, so feedback is appreciated. I based Steve and Robin's friendship off of me and my best friend, so I got a lil sappy. I'll update as soon as my summer school schedule allows.
> 
> My tumblr is @littlewagers so feel free to message me there as well.


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